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angel_gidgetTitle: Time Enough for Tarrifs Later
Fandom Disney: Aladdin/Sleeping Beauty
Rating: G
Word Count: 628
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Done for comment_fic. An Aladdin/Sleeping Beautify crossover "The diplomatic sessions go so much better when theQueen princess is sent instead of that stuffy old King.
The only thing they liked about the king was that the old fart knew how to drink. He would quickly decide what tarrifs in trade he wanted, how much he was willing to give up, and then would skip through several of the traditional pleasantries to get down to the banquet. It was easier when the Sultan was there. He would carry most of the conversation, leaving Jasmine to pretend that running back and forth for more wine was a princess's duty, and Aladdin to pretend that he really was so excited about the food that he could possibly set down the roasted peacock leg long enough to participate in the conversation.
Neither the princess nor her formerly street-rat husband were really paying that much attention when the King announced that his daughter and her husband would be replacing him the following year. The only heard enough to inwardly protest when the Sultan mentioned that he would likewise be leaving Aladdin and Jasmine to handle the negotiations on his behalf.
And yet... Princess Aroura was bright. She came with the traditional tributes and pleasantries, but she meant them with all the passion of one who was young and saying them for the first time. And since it was, for the first time, Aladdin and Jasmine's duty to receive the gifts with grace, they did. The prince, Philip, was pleasant enough, but sick as a dog. Completely unaccustomed to the hardship of the desert, dehydrated and exhausted. Jasmine offered the traditional things: medicines, drinks, servants to attend him... but Aroura asked only for time. Aladdin smiled, and told her she could have it.
So they put off the banquet. And the pleasantries. And the tarrifs. They gathered in privacy around a sick prince in an empty guest room, sipping tea and passing time, watching the young woman care for him. Aroura didn't frown or blink when Aladdin leaned back onto his couch, hanging his feet off the side. Instead, she gulped her tea all at once, quenching her thirst and enjoying the flavor, so very unlike the dainty sips of a royal daughter.
Jasmine allowed the tension to fall from her shoulders, and reached for Aladdin's hand. Aroura thought nothing of it, only gently tangling her own fingers in Philip's hair as he fitfully slept.
When the sun set, the European princess looked out the window and softly mentioned that it was beautiful. Jasmine hummed in agreement. Aladdin smirked and told her she should see the view in reverse--seeing the palace from the anonymity of the streets was even better. Aroura smiled ask asked, "Tomorrow?"
They both blinked before nodding. If she didn't mind commoner's clothes, if she could stand to--
"Yes," she told them. And they knew it wouldn't the first time. Or the last.
When she looked out again and saw the tiny pagoda in the fading light, she grew curious, and asked what it was for.
"For the birds we used to keep," Jasmine told her. "I set them free years ago."
Aroura nodded. Birds needed to be free.
When Abu wondered in an hour later, he climbed on the princess's shoulder, and she offered him a bit of bread stowed away in her skirt.
Jasmine felt Aladdin's hand squeeze hers tightly. He had done the same for so long after coming to live in the palace. No matter how grand the feast, he couldn't help stowing food away on his person, as if it might not be there the following morning. As if fortune could crumble so quickly.
So she understood when Aladdin looked the golden-haired princess in the eye and told her, "Call me Al."
She felt something warm when the princess smiled back at them both and said,
"Call me Rose."
f.i.n.
[*]
Fandom Disney: Aladdin/Sleeping Beauty
Rating: G
Word Count: 628
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Done for comment_fic. An Aladdin/Sleeping Beautify crossover "The diplomatic sessions go so much better when the
The only thing they liked about the king was that the old fart knew how to drink. He would quickly decide what tarrifs in trade he wanted, how much he was willing to give up, and then would skip through several of the traditional pleasantries to get down to the banquet. It was easier when the Sultan was there. He would carry most of the conversation, leaving Jasmine to pretend that running back and forth for more wine was a princess's duty, and Aladdin to pretend that he really was so excited about the food that he could possibly set down the roasted peacock leg long enough to participate in the conversation.
Neither the princess nor her formerly street-rat husband were really paying that much attention when the King announced that his daughter and her husband would be replacing him the following year. The only heard enough to inwardly protest when the Sultan mentioned that he would likewise be leaving Aladdin and Jasmine to handle the negotiations on his behalf.
And yet... Princess Aroura was bright. She came with the traditional tributes and pleasantries, but she meant them with all the passion of one who was young and saying them for the first time. And since it was, for the first time, Aladdin and Jasmine's duty to receive the gifts with grace, they did. The prince, Philip, was pleasant enough, but sick as a dog. Completely unaccustomed to the hardship of the desert, dehydrated and exhausted. Jasmine offered the traditional things: medicines, drinks, servants to attend him... but Aroura asked only for time. Aladdin smiled, and told her she could have it.
So they put off the banquet. And the pleasantries. And the tarrifs. They gathered in privacy around a sick prince in an empty guest room, sipping tea and passing time, watching the young woman care for him. Aroura didn't frown or blink when Aladdin leaned back onto his couch, hanging his feet off the side. Instead, she gulped her tea all at once, quenching her thirst and enjoying the flavor, so very unlike the dainty sips of a royal daughter.
Jasmine allowed the tension to fall from her shoulders, and reached for Aladdin's hand. Aroura thought nothing of it, only gently tangling her own fingers in Philip's hair as he fitfully slept.
When the sun set, the European princess looked out the window and softly mentioned that it was beautiful. Jasmine hummed in agreement. Aladdin smirked and told her she should see the view in reverse--seeing the palace from the anonymity of the streets was even better. Aroura smiled ask asked, "Tomorrow?"
They both blinked before nodding. If she didn't mind commoner's clothes, if she could stand to--
"Yes," she told them. And they knew it wouldn't the first time. Or the last.
When she looked out again and saw the tiny pagoda in the fading light, she grew curious, and asked what it was for.
"For the birds we used to keep," Jasmine told her. "I set them free years ago."
Aroura nodded. Birds needed to be free.
When Abu wondered in an hour later, he climbed on the princess's shoulder, and she offered him a bit of bread stowed away in her skirt.
Jasmine felt Aladdin's hand squeeze hers tightly. He had done the same for so long after coming to live in the palace. No matter how grand the feast, he couldn't help stowing food away on his person, as if it might not be there the following morning. As if fortune could crumble so quickly.
So she understood when Aladdin looked the golden-haired princess in the eye and told her, "Call me Al."
She felt something warm when the princess smiled back at them both and said,
"Call me Rose."
f.i.n.
[*]
